Pewdiepie's Nightmare
by Shado-chan
Summary: Inspired by the Amnesia CS Pewdiepie's Nightmare: After Pewdie passes out for the last time, he finds himself taken captive by the Untrusted Statues. What have they done to him? Who's behind all this? Will he be able to escape the castle...alive? *working title*
1. Prologue

The last thing I remember clearly was the Untrusted Statues.

They had suddenly appeared behind me, after that door that I had tried to enter shattered in a split second. I had fallen backwards, and the last thing I saw was their faceless helmets staring back down at me, almost mockingly, as my sanity faded away and passed out.

All the rest of the memories I've had since then had some sort of dark red fog surrounding them, as if someone had given me a reverse Sanity Potion. Only glimpses of these show up: several Bros trapped inside a cell, guarded by Untrusted Statues, ravenous for something; Mr. Chair being dragged away by a teleporting naked guy; Stephano's sword in my hand, covered with blood. How did I get these memories . . .?

Alas, fate looks my way this time, and I finally awake to reality...


	2. I: Awake

I shoot up into a sitting position, awakened by the sound of my own screaming. Tearing through the silent, thick air like a dagger, it fills my ears and covers my entire being, emphasizing the nightmare once more. It's repetitive now . . . that's the third time this week. Why would it come to me so frequently?

My hands shaking, I wipe the sweat pouring down my head with the silver sleeve on my arm, taking calming breaths to steady myself. Everything around me is a dim shade of blue, so dark in the corners that I can't see anything in there. I've awoken on a four-poster bed, green and white sheets tucked into it, along with me. A nightstand made of wood stands next to me, with a script of paper and a pair of black headphones lying on it. Looking up, there's a dresser a little ways ahead, and a fireplace- lit with blue fire- lies impregnated in the wall. A dresser is to the far right, doors closed. A little bit more to the right, in the wall behind me, stands a window, moonlight streaming in abundantly. The stars shine dismally as I inspect it. How long have I been asleep?

Pushing away the covers, I slide out of bed and stand up on the floor. I'm barefoot, and the coldness of the floorboards seeps into my body. I'm wearing what looks like grey edition Stephano's clothes, minus the hat he has. They fit me perfectly, of course.

Everything is so . . . quiet. Not even the sound of cockroaches are present. It's almost distracting.

Which shifts my attention back to the paper on the nightstand. I turn around and pick it up, sitting back down on the bed. Someone's messy scrawl is written on here.

_Day 34;_

_The Untrusted Statues have taken control of the castle from what I have seen when they're not looking. Patrolling the hallways, manning the gates and doors- what are they doing? I get a feeling that I'm somehow involved . . . I bet the barrels are behind this as well. They just can't be trusted. The-_

Something shatters and I jump nearly several feet into the air, dropping the note and staying very still. Harsh voices scold someone, and as I regain my breath, I hear the low moans and growls of a Bro. Was it responding to the voice?

Footsteps reach my ears, and they eventually fade away. What just happened? I don't even know . . .

Standing up abruptly, I decide on the spot that I need to get out of this room. Curiosity fills me, propelling my feet into a corner that's oddly shaped. Sure enough, my intuition is correct- once my eyes get used to the darkness, I find there's a door here. Grasping the handle, I push the door outward, being met with a long corridor brightly lit with torches on either side. It gives off a slight cozy feel, but I give an involuntary shudder. I never really liked corridors.

Stepping into the corridor, I close the door behind me. It locks immediately on itself, and that's when I remember I don't have a lantern.

"Screw it, I don't need a lantern," I murmur to myself, turning left and making my way down the corridor.

The floorboards creak underneath my feet, reminding me how old the castle is. This corridor seems to go on forever, with doors all around, although every time I try one, it's locked. And I don't have any keys.

It's a bit too quiet. Where are the voices I heard earlier? Where's the Bro? Although now that I think about it, it's probably better that I can't find them.

The corridor comes to rest at a large door, larger than all the rest, made of red and tan wood. This is the door used to progress, if I remember correctly. I reach for the handle, praying that it would be unlocked.

"What are you doing out of your room?" a metallic voice behind me asks, and I jump up and whirl around, my hands held out in the traditional chopneese fighting stance. I come face-to-face with a group- a patrol, rather- of three tall, grey suits of armor and two Bros. They edge closer to me, but an armored statue on either side holds them back. "The council meeting isn't until sunrise."

"I . . . felt like exploring . . ." I stutter, not knowing what else to say. I also seem to draw up a blank on what those statues are called. I'm drawing up a blank on a lot of things today.

The statues glance at each other, and then the middle one addresses me again. "Fine. You can explore. Just don't leave the castle," it replies, turning and marching off down the other end of the hallway. The rest of the patrol follows him.

I let out a long breath once they're out of earshot and turn back to the door, opening it just enough so I can slip through. What's on the other side takes my breath away. It's a large circular area, raised wooden platforms surrounding it behind a wall, almost like an auditorium. On the wall are many torches glowing with a blue-green fire. Despite that, the room is still mildly cold, seeping in though my thin clothes. I scratch my head slightly as I make my way into the center of the room, rustling my already-messy brownish-blonde hair and feeling a slight throbbing back there. What is this? If I remember correctly, I don't think I've ever seen this room before, not here, not anywhere.

Come to think of it, I've been asking a lot of questions today, and thinking hasn't really helped me much.

I stop when I reach the dead center of the circle. Looking up, this room extends reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally far upwards, a window with moonlight streaming through at the top. Once again, I watch the stars for a bit. Almost as if they're calling to me . . .

* * *

**How're doin bros? :D Welcome to chapter 1 of mah Pewdiepie fanfic! This is actually going to be a side thingy to procrastinate on Neverending strife...the reason it isn't so formal like my other fics is because I'm typing with pages now, and as we all know, pages SUCKS compared to microsoft word. Please excuse some spelling and grammatical errors i may have overlooked D: And the shortness of the chapters...**

**So...enjoy if you like! *decoding brofist***

**:S:**


	3. II: A Rumor

"_Pewdie . . ."_

The voices ring through my head again.

"_Pewdiepie!"_

Who are they?

"_Save us! We need you!"_

Save you from what? Need me for what? I don't understand!

"_Pewdie!"_

What do you want from me?!

* * *

I can almost feel my sanity crumbling when they start to question me. It seems tangible. The red fog around my vision is present, although hardly noticeable. I don't pay attention to it- I shut my eyes and clasp my hands together at the back of my head, pressing my forehead down onto the wooden desk before me. I try to block out everything anyone is saying, although noises still reach my ears- the clank of the three statues keeping guard around me shifting closer, the murmur of voices around the meeting hall. There's also someone talking to me, probably right in front of me.

"Pewdiepie, we need you to keep hold of your mental stability, and if you don't answer us, we won't know what's wrong with you and we won't be able to help." He has a heavy french accent; his voice is familiar. "Just this once, okay?"

The words come tumbling out of my mouth. "I've been having this nightmare repeatedly for the longest time now, ever since I lost Stephano. I can't exactly remember anything, except that I wake up screaming whenever I have it. There's also this red fog around my mind and sight on most occasions. I can't remember much about anything, only names, and even then I can't connect them to anything else, or why I feel the way about something or how I felt about it before. Most of this happens either at random or at the worst possible moment."

". . . Hm."

I lift my head from the table, and the golden man glances around the room, his back to me. "You heard him. Phase two must be administered if we are to continue. This meeting has adjourned."

Everyone within the stands- every_thing_, rather, as there are Bros and silver statues and even barrels, humanoid and not, within the stands- files out quickly, murmuring all the while until the large room is empty. The torches are unlit, replaced by the sunlight streaming in from the massive window in the ceiling. Every corner of the room is illuminated.

"Pewdie." I turn my attention back to the man, who is now looking back at me. He seems to glow as the sunlight reflects off his golden skin and clothes. He turns and walks away a bit, down the stairs at the end of the stands, looking over his shoulder at me. "Follow me."

I stand and jog after him, the guard of silver statues following from a distance.

He sets a brisk pace across the center of the meeting hall, going through another exit at the North side of the room. I catch up to him right before he disappears behind the door, slipping through behind him and coming out in a large stairwell.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me, although I probably don't want to know.

He waves away my question without looking back as we descend the stairs, presenting an answer to something lurking at the back of my mind. "I know you're troubled at the loss of your friends, especially my twin brother, but our expert team of hunters is looking for them high and low," he reassures, but his tone changes quickly. "That might disperse soon, though, as we have gotten word of rumors from the outside. Rumors of a plan that will catch you in everything you don't want to be in."

I suck in a breath, bracing myself. "Like what?"

We come into a room that closely resembles an office, and he goes and sits in a chair behind a large wood desk. "The rumors speak of a kidnapping happening here in the castle, and we think it may be that the people who intend to do it may try to kidnap you," he explains. "If that is true, we need to have our hunters here and not anywhere else, because it might get pretty nasty." He pauses when he sees the horror apparent on my face. "Pewdie, you need to know you are a very valuable person, but that also makes you a target. You're not in some video game now. Keep that in mind. You are dismissed."

I nod once and turn, almost stumbling out of the room and into the hallway. Closing the door behind me, I lean against it, breathing deeply to try and calm myself. Me? Why do they want me? What did I do that makes me valuable, as he- _Gonzales, that's what his name is_- told me?

I clutch my head. "Stop it," I murmur to myself. "You can't afford to think about that now, and if you do, it'll just make you even worse than what you are now. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it."

_. . . If Gonzales is going to bring back the hunters for this, _I think, _then that means he knows more than he's telling me. _My mind flows off into an image of the team: Skully, the leader of the group, always in that skull-like mask and hidden behind a cloak of silver; Torchy, second in command, who's hot-headed and brash nature gets in the way of his impeccable leadership skills; three of the finest warriors in the castle backing them up. Immensely strong, always finding their target, revered and feared by everyone else. _If the rumors are true, there's going to be more than just a kidnapping._

_But that's still a really big If, _a voice in the back of my head mentions. _It's probably just a bad rumor. You most likely have nothing to worry about, Pewdie._

"Yeah . . . nothing to worry about," I repeat, and the words finally calm me down enough to think straight. I notice the red haze around my vision is also gone, as if something affecting my sight wore off. I really need to figure out what makes it appear and why it does.

A soft _clank _turns my attention to the shadows at the end of the hall, and I notice the guard of statues still lingering there, waiting. I wave them off and they disperse down into doorways and other corridors, finally leaving me alone since the meeting. The hallway is now eerily quiet, and if it stays that way, I know no one is following me.

I turn off in a random direction and tread on silent feet.

* * *

**Hallos bros, chapter 2 is out and we're finally touching the surface of the plot. Not much, but still leaves more to be revealed later.  
I'm still looking for a better title D; I can't think of one (considering I figured out there _is _a pewdie's nightmare 2 CS and there's going to be a part 3! :D), maybe something simple. Or something song-based. I don't know! DX  
As always, R&R! *brofist***

**:S:**


	4. III: Prison Conflict

_Chapter Three: Prison Conflict_

* * *

The staircase I'm descending creaks beneath my weight as the stone changes to wood the farther down I go. The steps are molded and falling apart, barely supporting me. I keep my hand on the heavy handrail built into the wall, just in case I fall into the floor or something.

The sound of my shoes clacking against the steps echo throughout the long corridor, and I keep my eyes and ears open for anything that may be of harm to me. My first instinct is to rush out of here, because I don't have a lantern, but something is calling me down deeper into the castle. I shiver as a draft rushes past me, through my thin clothes, blowing my hair back and chilling my skin, but I keep marching downwards.

When I reach the bottom, the room is as black as night, save a candle right beside the entranceway, sitting on a little table. The dim light it gives off illuminates a lantern, a jar of oil, and a piece of paper. Someone's rushed handwriting is scribbled onto the paper, and I pick it up, my eyes scanning the page.

_Take the oil and the lantern, although knowing you I doubt you'd leave it. Go as deep as you can into the prisons. Someone you know dearly is held there.  
The barrels are always watching you, Felix. Be wary of them. You probably don't remember much of anything, because of the drug they have been giving you, but that will be explained later.  
I must go. No one else must read this note. Hide it, eat it, burn it in your lantern if need be to keep anyone else from getting their hands on it. Most of the notes will require you to do so. I will be here, dropping these around and helping you along the way._

_Stay safe._

The words take a few seconds to sink in. When they do, I grasp the lantern without a word and light it, taking the oil and placing it in my pocket, and start walking down the seemingly endless corridor.

Each hallway is filled with rows upon rows of empty prison cells. The entire place is also made of bare stone, radiating a dark, desolate aura. I shrink against the shadows that seem to crawl around me, this being one of those moments where I really would appreciate having Stephano with me to guide the way, as I keep getting lost whenever the hallways branch off to other paths. This prison is huge.

Eventually, after a bunch of stumbling around and going practically nowhere, I reach a final dead end. It's a room in a circular shape, the walls impregnated with prison cells again. Torture devices of various shapes and sizes sit in the center, chilling me to the bone. I start to tread around the cells. Only one, the one in the far right corner, is filled with only a single occupant. When my lantern shines on him, I notice he has his head down, facing the ground. The sight of the green beret and sweater-vest is the mental key for recognizing this person.

"Mr. Chair?" I ask quietly, my voice slight as I kneel down in front of his cell. He doesn't look up; he just sits cross-legged on the stone ground, facing it. I think for a bit, and then drop my lantern, grab a nearby stone about the size of my fist, and bang it against a cell bar. The result is a loud gonging sound, a small dent formed in the bar, and him jumping up at least five feet in the air in fright before he realizes it's me.

"Pewdie?" He breaths, fixing his glasses, his green eyes boring into my blue ones. "What are you doing here?"

I grin recklessly and hold my arm out to help him up into a standing position from between the bars. "Just my intuition told me to come down here," I joke as he takes my arm and stands up. "How did you end up in this prison down here?"

Mr. Chair looks around nervously, letting go of my hand. "It would be better if you were more careful," he warns quietly. "If someone catches you . . ."

I think, putting my hand on my chin. "Then I'll find the key and let you out, and we'll talk then," I answer, turning away to start my search among the piles of torture devices and various other objects in this room. Now that I think a bit more, that wasn't the smartest idea, but who am I for coming up with smart ideas?

I can feel Mr. Chair's gaze on my back, watching me intently as I open a desk drawer and finally find the key. When I grasp it, however, a searing pain shoots through my hand, making me drop it and gasp and curse all at the same time, holding my throbbing hand. It clinks across the floor, finally settling down in the middle of the room.

"What was that?" I gasp. None of the other keys that I have ever collected in the history of my life has ever done that.

"A precaution," someone replies at the other end of the room, and I turn my head to face the approaching sound of footsteps. A man with short, wavy black hair, pale skin, and knowing green eyes treads lightly into the room, wearing a white undershirt with a black vest over top, black dress pants and shoes, with a long greyish-green trench coat to complete his outfit. "We had a feeling someone would try and take the key, so we decided to fix that."

"Hello, Martin," Mr. Chair greets, bitterness in his voice. I blink as Martin gives him a small, but obviously fake, smile. Mr. Chair's still trying to be polite, as that's his nature, but it's obvious that the older man has the upper hand in this situation.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, letting go of my damaged hand. It still stings a little, but not much. Apparently, the effects of whatever was on that key is starting to wear off.

Martin inquires, "Actually, I had come to look for you. Lunch will be served in a few minutes."

I look to the side. "I'm not really hungry . . ."

"You are required to attend," he pesters, making his way over to me.

I bolt away from him, towards Mr. Chair's cell, grabbing the stone from before and holding it threateningly, facing him. "Not until you tell me why Mr. Chair is locked up here."

"In that case . . ." Martin slowly turns to face me, with a soft sigh. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a dull, steel crowbar. My fist tightens around the rock as I stand my ground, but sway ever so slightly. I was just bluffing, but I will use this rock if I need to.

I don't get the chance. Martin moves so fast he's merely a blur, and the next thing I know, everything goes black.


End file.
